I was visiting a fellow at a large wooden
house in the country where his family apparently lived.
Black-haired, he looked Jewish, and like I, appeared to be in his
early 20s. He had many brothers in the house, and
it soon became apparent the brothers were going to force the
fellow to leave. I didn't understand why the fellow had to
leave, and I was disappointed, because I liked the house.
Nevertheless, he and I walked outside.

My attention was drawn to an
extremely beautiful butterfly which had five or six
different colors in its design, and I made a comment to the
fellow about the "million dollar butterfly." The fellow
immediately raced back into the house to grab his camera to take
a picture of the butterfly. Unfortunately, while the fellow was
in the house, a bird swooped down and ate the butterfly. When the
fellow returned I commented about the loss of the butterfly worth
a million dollars.

With a note of alarm, the fellow told me to jump into
the car, a light blue Cadillac sitting near us. I suddenly saw what the fellow
was worried about – a huge black bear,
almost half as big as the Cadillac, was bearing down on us. I
quickly jumped into the car, just as the bear began a ferocious
attack on the car. Instead of jumping in the car with me, the
fellow stayed outside, trying to take a picture of the bear.

The assault by the bear alarmed
me. When I realized the car was running, I thought I could
simply get behind the wheel and drive away. But instead, I
crouched down in the back seat, half on the floor, half on the
seat, hoping the bear wouldn't be able to break into the car.